Living in the Shadows
by ShadowWalker616
Summary: Set in the summer after GoF. Harry is sick of being abused by the Dursley’s, and tired of having no say in his own life. So, with a trip to Gringotts and an unexpected friend, Harry moves from the shadows of existence into the shadows of his life.
1. Open Wounds

**Chapter One – Open Wounds**

A cold moon shone its pearly light over the ghostly houses of Little Whinging, Surry, as if hoping to spot something that was out of place in this seemingly perfect neighbourhood. And it succeeded. A few rays of its pale light found a darkened window and fell upon a boy, or so one would think by his appearance. But this was no child. This was a young man, old beyond his years, a battle weary warrior forged in fire and shadows. This man was Harry Potter, and he was probably the most out of place thing you could hope to find in this 'ordinary' street. For Harry Potter, was a wizard. And not just any wizard either. Harry Potter was one of the most unusual and powerful wizards you could ever wish to meet, for he is the only person ever to survive a killing curse, and a killing curse from the most powerful Dark Wizard in over a century at that. Harry Potter, at the age of only one, had survived Lord Voldemort's attempt to kill him. And to make him even more extraordinary, he had not only survived him once, but four times! Although, not without cost. For Harry Potter did not live with his parents in this little suburb, for they had been murdered by Lord Voldemort in the very first attack by him that Harry had survived. And now, not even a month ago, he had been forced to watch a fellow school mate murdered in front of him, only to survive, once again, himself.

It would be hard for a muggle, or even an average witch or wizard to comprehend to mental anguish and torture these experiences had caused to this gentle hearted boy. Yet the moon knew. The moon understood. And if someone was watching with the moon through the tiny window of number four, then they might be able to begin to understand too. For this night was just like every other night that had passed for Harry for the past 3 weeks. As the ethereal radiance shone on his small, uncomfortable bed, it was possible to see his lean form twisted in his thin and tatty sheet, which was soaked through with sweat as he thrashed about, caught in the grips of a terrifying nightmare once more. Low moans issued from his straining throat, intermixed with intermitting words, as he fought with his dream.

'No...Noooo...please...stop...don't kill him...no, not again...please...NO!!!' The final word came out as a tortured, heart-rending scream as he bolted upright, his eyes wide and terrified, his breathing coming in heavy gasps as he fought to connect with the present once again. As he began to comprehend where he was, he heard a heavy thump from the room next door and an angry voice shout out 'Enough!' He heard heavy footsteps stomping down the hall and stopping outside his room and the clatter of many locks could be heard, before his door banged open, revealing the massive and currently very angry bulk of Harry's Uncle Vernon.

'I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR SCREAMING POTTER!!!' he bellowed. 'Every night since you came back from that freakish school of yours you have kept this family awake. And it ends now! You are going to stop disturbing us even if I have to beat it into you!' And from behind his back he brought out a thick black leather belt. Harry's eyes widened with fright, and he scrambled out of bed, trying desperately to put as much space as possible between him and his uncle. His uncle lunged for him, arm outstretched, clearly intending to hold harry down while he beat him. Harry may have been tired and weak from his nightmare, but years of seeker training and dodging spells made it automatic to quickly move away, jumping over his bed to get away. However, this move had now put him in a corner with no way of escape, and Harry knew he was in for it. His uncle hadn't beaten him since before he got his first Hogwarts letter, but Harry remembered what it was like, and Vernon had four years of unresolved and unreleased frustration and anger to take out on Harry now. As his uncle closed in on him, Harry closed his eyes and prayed that he would pass out before his uncle had finished with him. As he felt the first burning stripe laid across him chest, he wondered what he had ever done to deserve this. No, forget that, he thought, as another stinging lash landed across his right cheek, knocking his head into his wardrobe, he knew what he had done to deserve this. He had been conceived. As Harry endured the fiery lash strokes, one after the other, setting every inch of his skin screaming in pain, he thought about every moment of his life that had led him here. Him, the Boy-Who- Lived, the hero of the Wizarding World, being beaten into a pulp by his muggle uncle. If only Dumbledore could see his precious Golden Boy now, he thought bitterly. Maybe then he would understand why he hated coming back here every summer. He had never told anyone about the abuse though. Not even when he was little, and he went into school, with his torso purple from bruises and his back burning from whip stripes. He didn't tell anyone when he went to Hogwarts either. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Dumbledore. But surely someone had noticed something, had wondered why the only clothes he wore that weren't his school uniform were 10 sizes too big for him, and as ragged as hell. Mrs Weasley always complained about how thin he was, but she never asked why he always came from his relatives looking as if he hadn't had a square meal since he left Hogwarts. But then again, did he really want them to know. Could he really live with the shame of them knowing? That was the reason he had never told. Because he was ashamed that they would think he was weak, a little boy beaten by his own family, people who were meant to love for him. But the only people who loved for him were either dead or unable to be with him. Dead like Cedric. Dead. Murdered. Because of Voldemort. As he thought about Voldemort, and all the pain he had caused him and his friends and family, anger began to build up in him, the likes of which he had never known before. Because of Voldemort he was stuck here with relatives he beat and starved him. But it wasn't just Voldemort though, Harry suddenly thought, not noticing that his Uncle had stopping lashing at him with the belt and had left the room, muttering about freaks and sleeping. Voldemort was the root as all his pain, but he had been aided by someone else, someone who Harry had trusted ever since he had first heard about him. Albus Dumbledore. Sure he had explained to Harry that he had to come back to the Dursley's because he was 'safe' here, but his first Hogwarts letter had been addressed to the cupboard under the bloody stairs. Didn't he think that that was the slightest bit off? And every year at Hogwarts, he had faced danger and death, in a place where he was supposed to be safe and protected, Where Cedric was supposed to be safe, where Ginny was supposed to be safe. But no. Cedric was dead and Ginny had nearly died, as well as dozens of other students, including Hermione. Dumbledore had failed to keep him and his family safe. And his friends were his family, he realised. Not these people who he happened to share a blood relationship with, but the people who he loved. And he did love them, he suddenly comprehended. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, all of the Weasleys, Remus, and Sirius. He loved them. And he would do anything to protect them. He felt a fire raging at the very core of his being, and for once, for the first time in his who life, Harry felt strong. He _would _keep his family safe, even if that meant going against Dumbledore's wishes. It was the man's own fault. He had failed way too many times. Now it was time for him to face up to his mistakes.

Harry James Potter sat up, ignoring the pain that bombarded his body. It was nothing compared to Voldemort's Cruciatus curse. Wiping some of the blood away from one of the cuts on his chest, he raised his hand, letting the moonlight shine on the blood, turning it black. Harry felt something stir inside him, and without knowing why he did it, he pressed his bloody fingers to the centre of his battered and bleeding chest and spoke the words which would change his life forever.

'I, Harry James Potter, Heir to the Potter family, here by swear by my blood and my magic, that I will protect my family no matter what it takes, even if it means my life for theirs. I will bring an end to Lord Voldemort, and I will have my freedom. So I will it, so mote it be.'

And as he spoke, a golden light shone around him like an aura, shining so bright it was like a star, making his eyes shine like emeralds, and if anyone had been there to see it, they would have felt courage, and honour, and power, and love, radiating from the young man who had just become a warrior for the light.

_**Disclaimer: **Same as ever. I do not own anything that you recognise in this story, although I wish I did. J.K - you are fantastic._

_Please Read and Review. Reviews make me happy. Flames make me sad. _


	2. Letters Galore

**Chapter Two – ****Letters Galore**

Harry Potter was, in a word, pissed. He had woken up that morning with his body still bearing the brilliant red lines of the belt his uncle had applied to him last night, which burned like they had been put there by a branding iron. He was stiff from sleeping on the floor curled up, and to top it all off, his magic seemed to be going haywire on him, causing anything vaguely electrical to either malfunction or blow up around him. Just this morning he had attempted to cook breakfast for the Dursley's, as usual, and the electric cooker had sparked, banged, and died. Next, the microwave refused to turn on for him, and when he tried to turn on the light in the garage, the bulb had blown. And that was just the physical aspects of what was pissing him off.

After being sent to his room by his Aunt after the bulb blew, he had decided to make a list of all the things that were wrong with his life.

_Things that are Wrong with My Life_

_My parents are dead_

_I have to live with people who hate me and hurt me_

_I have nearly died 4 times at Hogwarts, 5 times with the Dursley's, and once when I was a baby._

_I didn't even know I was a wizard until I was 11_

_My Godfather was unfairly imprisoned for 12 years and even now that he is out I am not allowed to see him._

_My friends have been in constant danger every year I've been at school._

_I helped Voldemort return._

_I have a permanent connection to said Evil Dork Lord_

_I am not allowed to see my friends or go out when I am with my relatives every summer._

_Dumbledore is hiding something from me. Possibly more than one thing?_

As Harry scanned his list, he realised that all of the things on his list, while they did most defiantly have a root cause in Voldemort, were also caused by Dumbledore, and this had put Harry into turmoil. Voldemort was back now, and Dumbledore was head of the resistance against him, so it wasn't as if Harry could just turn his back on him. Also, he had trusted and cared for the old man like a grandfather for four years, and it was hard to comprehend that that same man had been behind so many of the nightmares in his life. Even this summer, when he needed comfort the most, he had yet to get a single letter from anyone, and he knew in his heart that that was down to Dumbledore as well. Well, he wanted to talk to his friends, and he wanted out of this house, and so help him, this time he was going to be listened to when he said what he wanted to do with his own life! He wasn't some helpless child, or some mentally deficient boy who needed all his decisions making for him. And so he decided that the only way he was going to get through to Dumbledore was to give him the shock of his life. And with that thought in mind he sat down and pulled out some parchment and a self inking quill, and started to write some letters.

_Ron,_

_ What's going on mate? I haven't had a single letter from you all summer, even though I've sent you several. In fact I haven't had a letter from anyone. Ron, you know how bad my relatives are and I need help, even if __it's__ just someone to talk to__. Have your parents told you to stop being friends with me because I'm dangerous to be around. If that's the case then I'm sorry mate, and I don't expect you to fight with your family for me.__ Thank you for the past four years in which you have been like the brother I never had._

_Goodb__ye_

_Harry_

_Hermione,_

_ Firstly I want you to know that you are not the only one who has been absent from my mail this summer. No one else wants to talk to me either. I'm guessing that Mr and Mrs Weasley have decided that I'm too dangerous for Ron to be around. And I guess since you're the smartest witch of the age that you have come to that conclusion as well. I can't say that I blame you. People who hand around with me tend to get either hurt or killed.__ I just want to say thank you for the past four years in which you have been like the sister I never had._

_Goodbye_

_Harry_

_Ginny,_

_I'm guessing that you are probably surprised to be getting a letter from me as we have hardly ever talked before, let alone owled. But I came to a realisation this summer that you are the only person I know that could possibly understand what I am going through, as you are the only other person I know who has been directly hurt by Voldemort. Yet even as I come to the realisation that I have more friends than I thought, or so I hope, then the one's I thought I had slip away from me. I haven't had a single letter this summer, and quite frankly Gin, it hurts. It hurts to think that the people I have counted on to always be there for me abandon me when I need them the most. I guess I can't really blame them though. I'm a dangerous bloke to be around, as I'm sure you've noticed.__ In fact I don't even expect you to read this letter all the way through. I guess I'm just writing it to make myself feel better about things. A feeble hope, I know. But oh well. I know your parents have stopped Ron from writing to me, and I guess they will tell you the same thing. All I ask is that you don't let anyone else see this letter. I would rather my pain remain silent._

_Harry_

_Sirius,_

_I'm guess the first thing I want to say is that I understand. I know that having me as a Godson has been no picnic, and I just want you to know that I don't blame you for cutting off ties with me now, after what has happened. I'm dangerous and probably just a plain inconvenience for you. I just wanted to say thank you for giving me brief taste of what it is like to have a real family, even if it has made me realise all the more what I have lost, thanks to my own stupidity. I hope that you haven't had too much grief concerning me since we met, and I hope that you will eventually be able to walk down the street a free man when Wormtail is brought to justice._

_Thank you, and Goodbye_

_Harry_

As Harry finished his last letter and rolled it up, he was filled with conflicting emotions over what he had written. Firstly, he felt a bit guilty about the pain he was going to cause his friends when the read his letters, and believed that he thought that they had abandoned them. He had tried to write what he thought he would feel like if he hadn't realised that it was probably Dumbledore who was causing his information black-out. Which brought him to his next emotion; Pleasure. He was feeling a vindictive pleasure at the thought of all the angry owls Dumbledore would be getting from everyone after reading his letters. He wouldn't be surprised it Mrs Weasley sent him one of her famous Howlers. As he attached his letters to Hedwig's leg, he realised with surprise that his longest letter was to the littlest Weasley, Ginny. He was so surprised that he didn't even notice when a bit of blood from the still healing wounds on his body got onto her letter.

'Safe journey girl,' he whispered to Hedwig as she took off into the sky. He watched her until she flew out of sight behind a distant cloud, before getting up and making a move to close the window. But before he could do so, he noticed something. Another owl winging its way toward his window. Quickly he stepped back, and allowed it to swoop into his room, landing on his desk. It was a handsome tawny owl and it extended its leg to him politely so that he could remove the letter attached. Harry removed it gently, before offering the owl a drink from Hedwig's bowl before it left. It took a grateful sip, nipped his hand affectionately, and took wing, soaring out of the open window.

Harry looked at the letter, hoping it was not a letter from one of his friends now that he had just sent off his own, but he did not recognise the handwriting. Turning it over, he was shocked to see the seal of Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

_Why would Gringotts be writing to me?_ He wondered, as he broke the seal and pulled out the creamy parchment, unfolded it, and began to read.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_It has come to our attention here at Gringotts that you __have not yet visited the Potter Family Vault__s__ to claim your inheritance as you should have done on your 11__th__ birthday. As the sole remaining member of the Potter family, you are the Head of the family Potter, and need to claim your inheritance before your reach your majority. However, while the Wizarding age of majority occurs at 17, the goblin age of majority occurs at 15, and as your 15__th__ birthday occurs in 3 days, we at Gringotts tell you that it is of the utmost importance that you travel here before then to speak to your family accountant, before your monetary rights revert to the Ministry of Magic as unclaimed gold. As we are aware of your unusual status, we have charmed this letter as a portkey that will__ activate when you tap it three times with your wand and say __Galleons. You will arrive in the Gringotts lobby._

_Please come as soon as possible._

_Griphook_

_Potter Family Vaults_Harry thought, confused. But I already have a vault. Why are there more. Wait a sec, I was meant to know about them when I turned 11? Dumbledore! That flaming old coot, he's behind this, I know it! Right that is it!

Harry stood up, the letter clamped in his fist. A wind was starting to blow around his room, blowing his hair in every direction, flapping the curtains and pulling the sheets on his pathetic bed into disarray. As his anger grew, so did the wind, until there was a tornado force gale spinning around the littlest bedroom of number four, Privet Drive. And then, all of a sudden it stopped. All that was left was Harry standing in the middle of the room, his eyes tight shut, breathing heavily. Then his eyes snapped open and you could see in his eyes that the tornado was still there, inside him, waiting to be unleashed. It was a storm made of his emotions. It was under control for now, but there was no doubt that it would not be contained forever.

Harry took another deep breath and looked around him, before walking to his door and pulling it open, before walking down the stairs and out the front door, folding the letter and putting it in his pocket for safe keeping.

He needed to get as far away from that house as possible. He needed to think. These were thought swirling in Harry's brain as he made his way to the park. As he rounded the corner though, he distinctly heard a twig snap behind him. He whirled around, his hand already on his wand which was tucked into the waistband of his oversized jeans. But there was no one there. He scanned the pavement carefully. _Ah Ha! _There, on the path, about 4 metres behind him, was a snapped twig. And he knew that it had not been him that had snapped it. There was someone following him. He turned around again, deliberately putting an expression on his face that said he thought he was imagining things, and continued on his way to the park, but now, he was alert, listening for anything that might tell him who was following him and where they were. It was obvious that whoever it was was using an invisibility cloak. And that gave Harry an idea. When Harry arrived at the park, he had had three more clues that someone was following him, the last being the most obvious and informative. His shadow had fallen over and had let out a very female sounding gasp of pain. Sp now he knew that whoever it was that was following him was female, probably mid-twenties and was working for Dumbledore. It was clear that they weren't Death Eaters because they had made no attempt to catch or kill him.

So Dumbledore was having him tailed, thought Harry. Probably wants to make sure I don't try running off. As he sat down on the one swing Dudley and his gang of thugs hadn't managed to break. Well, that isn't going to stop me tomorrow, because they won't see me leave. I will go to Gringotts, find out what the hell is going on, and then I will have a little shopping spree in Diagon Ally. With Voldemort back and trying to kill me, _again_, I am going to need some more books on Defence then my school ones. So Harry started to make a mental list of all the things he needed to get and do in the Ally tomorrow. In fact, he stayed in the park all day, planning and didn't move until he saw that the sun was beginning to get low in the sky. By that time all his plans were set, and he had a mental To-Do-List for the next day.

_Go to Gringotts and finish up business with vaults._

_Get money from vault._

_Change some into muggle money_

_Get DADA, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions__, Occlumency, Legilimency, Animagu__s Training, Concealment__s__ and Duelling books from Flourish and Blotts_

_Get a new trunk like Moody's_

_Get some muggle exercise equipment_

_Re-stock potion supplies_

_Contact lenses._

_New robes and clothes._

_Talk to Ollivander about a possible second wand and wand holster._

_Tattoo_

Harry had added the last item on a whim. While all his other items were necessary and practical, he realised that tomorrow was probably going to be the only day for a good long while that he would get to go out and have some fun, and he had always wanted to get a tattoo, after hearing from Dean Thomas in his dorm that his big brother had an eagle tattooed across his back. Harry however, was thinking more along the lines of a phoenix, a creature of the light, which was reborn from its own ashes. He thought it would be a fitting tribute, both to himself, and to those he had lost.

And so, with his day planned out, he started to make his was back to number four, his invisible shadow trailing along behind him.

_Yay, longer chappy this time! Two in one night. Damn I'm good. Hope all you lovely people out there enjoy this and I would love to see some nice reviews coming my way. Usual disclaimer._

_ShadowWalker616 _


	3. Realizations

_**Sorry its been so long since my last update, I have been buried under work. Now that its the summer though, I intend to update much more frequantly. Thank you to all my lovely reviewers who have given me so much encouragment, I hope my story can live up to your expectations. Anyway, on with the story. ShadowWalker616.**_

**Chapter Three – Realizations**

The next morning Harry awoke early, only a few hours after dawn, but it was still the best night's sleep he had had in a month, with no nightmares. At least, none that he could remember, and since he had not woken up screaming or woken his uncle to beat him again, he assumed that if he had had any, they had at least been silent.

He got up immediately. He had a lot to do today, and there wasn't a moment to waste. He planned to leave for Gringotts at 10, so before then, he needed to shower, make the Dursley's their breakfast (he would have his at the Ally), and try and find some clothes that weren't to tatty to wear. But before he could do any of that, he realised with a start, he had a desk full of letters to open, and a hungry owl to reward. Hedwig had obviously run double time yesterday. At his count, he had seven letters waiting for him, and he didn't wait to open them, a big grin on his face at receiving his first letters from his friends that summer. The first one he picked up was from Ron.

_Harry,_

_Mate, I am soooooo sorry we made you think that we had forgotten about you. Believe me, Harry, that is the last thing we have done. We have been desperate to write to you, but Dumbledore said it wasn't safe if our letters got intercepted by Death Eaters or something, it had nothing to do with Mom and Dad, they love you, you're like another Weasley. Mom's been having kittens and she's already sent Dumbledore several angry letters, but after she read your last one, she sent him a Weasley Howler Special. I would almost pity the old man if he hadn't made you think that your family had abandoned you. Yeah, that's right mate, family. Like I said, Mom and Dad think of you like another son, and you are right, we have been like brothers for the last four years, and the twins agree with me. Don't you bloody dare to try and push us away cus you're 'dangerous,' cus we ain't having any of it Harry, and if you try, the twins will pound you, and I'll help. Family sticks together, through thick and thin. Anyway, I've got to go now, Hermione's staying with us at a secret place that Dumbledore's taken us to, and she wants to send off her letter with mine and Ginny's. And what's with that ‑­_

_mate? Why are you writing to Ginny? She's just a kid, and you're not even friends. Besides, she's too young to be mixed up with all this crap._

_Well, hopefully see you soon mate, don't you worry, if Dumbledore doesn't give his permission soon, me Fred and George will come get you again. Chin up Harry._

_Ron._

Good old Ron, thought Harry fondly, thinking about his best mate and how predictable he was. He had a good heart though, and it warmed him to know that he at least had one person willing to come rescue him, even if Dumbledore forbade it. But he was a bit peeved about what he said about Ginny. Since when did he vet the people he wrote to? It was none of his business if he wanted to write to Ginny, and she wasn't that young, she was only a year younger than them, and had faced experiences equal in pain and horror to a lot of the things they had faced, at an age younger than her. She had lived with Voldemort, or Tom Riddle as she had known him, inside her head for an entire year, she wasn't a baby any more.

Harry sighed, and moved onto his next letter, which was from Hermione.

_Harry,_

_How could you think that we had abandoned you Harry!! You are the closest thing to a brother I have, and I am not letting you go no matter what happens to you, and certainly not just because you think that you are too dangerous to be around now that You-Know-Who Voldemort is back! Your right, I am smart, maybe not the smartest girl of the age, but I am intelligent enough to know that you need your friends and family now more than you ever did before. You need us Harry, and I am not going to let you push us away. I know that you want to protect us and make sure that what happened to Cedric doesn't happen to us, but Harry, that isn't going to happen. You need to grieve, and you need your friends there with you to help you recover and more on, and to help you prepare for what is to come. I know that Ron has already told you why we haven't been allowed to write so far this summer, and that I am staying with the Weasleys and some other people at an undisclosed location, but I want you to know that Ron and I have been missing you desperately, and we have wanted to write to you so badly, but Dumbledore forbad us to, and we have to do what he says. Hopefully you can come to where we are soon, but if you can't, I'm sure we will see you in Diagon Ally to get our things before Hogwarts. Dumbledore says that you're safest with your Aunt and Uncle for now though._

_Hope to see you soon._

_Hermione._

Another predicable letter, thought Harry, but it is good to know that they did at least miss me and want to write. Hermione seems to think that Dumbledore knows best about everything though, and if I'm ever going to be able to trust her with my new secrets, then I need to get her out of that way of thinking. I don't want to lose my sister when I have just found her. _Sister._ It sunk in. He had a sister and at least three brothers. He had the family he had never ‑­

known. He had two father figures in Sirius and Mr. Weasley, a mother in Mrs. Weasley, a true uncle in Remus. It was damn near perfect. And with a smile on his face he moved on to the next letter, one that made him grin outright.

**_To our Dearest Investor,_**

_Our most dearest investor **He's the only investor we have apart from ourselves George.** You make a good point Fred. Anyway, we have received word from our fellow Weasley **Ronnikins that you have somehow managed to reach the preposterous conclusion that we, Clan Weasley, have abandoned one of our own.** Maybe not so preposterous Fred. After all, he's had no mail from anyone all summer and that's got to be hard after what happened. **Another good point from a twin George. But, that is not the point. We are writing to you **making time in our very busy schedule (we are trying to set up a joke shop remember) **in order to get rid of **banish **annihilate **exterminate **and totally destroy this notion. **On a more Sirius note Harry, we are here for you, **in all our twinliness**, through thick and thin, light and dark, sun and moon**for all the things to come. We know that you had a rough time last year,** but we want you to know that if you ever need us (**or something to prank Snape with**) then we are here for you, no matter what. You are family brother. **And Weasleys take care of their own.**_

**_We solemnly swear _**_that we are up to **no **good._

**_Fred a_**_nd George_

How he loved Fred and George, thought Harry. Not only had they cheered him up immensely, or they would have if he was still in his deeply depressed state, but they had told him that both Sirius and Remus were with them at this safe house place Ron and Hermione had mentioned. Not that he wasn't still sad about Cedric, but he had accepted the fact, and realised that it wasn't his fault, and that the blame lay squarely on the shoulders of Voldemort, and to a lesser degree, Wormtail, Barty Crouch Jnr, and Dumbledore. It felt odd to be putting Dumbledore up there with Voldemort and his lackeys, but for this, that was where Harry felt he belonged. With these thoughts still running through his head, he reached for his next letter. It was from Mrs Weasley.

_Harry Dear,_

_You dear boy, how could you think that we would forget about you like that, or forbid Ron from being friends with you. Well, I can see how you could think that but really, do you really think I could stop my children being friends with you even if I tried. Ronald is as stubborn as his father when he wants to be. You inspire more loyalty than Dumbledore, I swear. When I saw what you wrote to Ron in your last letter, and saw that being cut off from everyone was hurting you so much, I let lose at Dumbledore. I haven't yelled so loud since you boys second year. I have wanted to give that man a good dressing down for years. I heard from Minerva, oh, Professor McGonagall to you, who was in a meeting with him when he got my howler, that he looked like a second year getting caught trying to sneak into the ‑­_

_kitchens past curfew, he was so shocked and embarrassed. And so he should be, pulling you away from the people who love you when you need comfort the most. Sometimes I just do not understand that man. Anyway, after my letter, you should be out of that horrible muggle house post haste. Don't worry dear; you will be with your family soon._

_Love_

_Molly._

After reading this letter, Harry felt both happy and guilty about what he had read. Happy, because Mrs Weasley was so willing to stand up for him to Dumbledore, as if he were another one of her sons, like a tigress defending her cubs, and guilty because he had obviously hurt her so much and made her so sad with his letter. But oh well, it can't be helped, he thought. And it did make him feel good to read what she had written. And determinately hanging on to that thought, he reached out for another folded parchment envelope. It was from Sirius. He got that warm feeling as he always did when he received a letter from his Godfather. It was the feeling he associated with having a parent. He slit open the letter and began to read.

_Dear Harry,_

_Harry, I'm sorry. I have failed you as a Godfather. I made you feel unloved and unwanted, something I swore to James and Lily that I would never do. Harry, I swear, I have tried to contact you, dozens of times, yet every time I have the letter written and ready to by tied to an owl, Snape or Dumbledore or someone walks in a forbids it. Last time Severus did it, I nearly hexed him, and I would have but for the fact that Arthur walked in and stopped me. Harry, it is not you who causes grief it is me, the one person who should be there for you, helping you through your current grief. After all you have been through; I shouldn't have let anyone stop me from getting to you and being there for you. So many times I was on the edge of just apparating to your Aunts house and bringing you here, but every time, Remus or Molly convinced me not to, saying either that Dumbledore obviously had his reasons, or that I hadn't apparated in so long that I would probably end up in Switzerland (that was Remus's contribution. Stupid Wolf). But if I ever hear you say that you are an inconvenience or a danger to me again, then I will come find you, and I will pound some sense into that thick skull of yours. I swear you inherited it of James. Your mother would know better._

_Anyway, I think that after hearing Mrs Weasley explain her reasons to him in such a mild manner that Dumbledore will be letting you come here soon, probably within the next week. It's either that or be treated to another sweet talk from Molly. I pushed for it to be before your birthday, but Dumbledore insists that you have to stay there until at least the day after. Sorry Pup. Did you know I used to call you that when you were a baby? You were my Pup, Remus's Cub, James's Pronglet and Lily's Green-eyed devil. Wormtail never had a name for you, thank Merlin. Bloody Rat._

_‑­_

_Anyway, be seeing you soon, and then we can sit down for a nice long talk about how silly you've been and also how brave._

_Snuffles_

There was a soft smile on Harry's face and a glisten in his eye after he finished Sirius's letter. Another slice of information about his parents and his childhood before it all went to hell in a hand basket. He tried to imagine his mother calling him her green-eyed devil, or his father calling him Pronglet, and smiled at the images.

Now there were only two letters left on the table. On one envelope he recognised Dumbledore's loopy handwriting, but the other was unfamiliar to him, seeming more flowing and elegant than anything he had seen before. _That must be Ginny's reply, _realised Harry suddenly. Something told him to save that one for last, so he picked up Dumbledore's letter instead. _I wonder what old Dumbles has to say for himself, _Harry wondered as he opened it.

_Harry,_

_I find myself once again apologising to you for the mistakes of an old man. In my zeal and fervour to keep you and your friends safe, in the physical sense, I forgot that you need care in the mental and emotional sense, after suffering such a great trauma so recently. You are fragile at the moment, and you need your friends around you. I have arranged for you to be moved from the Dursleys two days after your birthday, so please be ready. Some friends of mine will be picking you up at 8 o'clock._

_Apologies._

_Professor Dumbledore_

**That bloody _arse! _**Shouted Harry inside his head, his anger reaching boiling point inside him. How dare he treat me like a child! _I am not fragile!! _

Harry was close to snarling like some kind of animal, his temper was so high. If Dumbledore had apparated into the littlest bedroom at that moment, Harry could not say that he would not have physically attacked him with his bare hands. The storm was swirling in his eyes again, emerald cyclones of power and emotion, just waiting to burst forth and rage with all the fury that had been encased within him for so long. His hands fisted on the edges of his desk, and he felt parchment rustle under his fingers. Then a strange scent reached his nostrils, like a mixture of strawberries, roses and lavender. It swirled in his head, calming the storm, soothing the anger that was pumping through his blood like venom. Looking down, Harry saw that in clenching his battered old writing desk, he had caught Ginny's letter with his fingernails.

Raising the letter to his nose, he sniffed, and was again filled with that heady fragrance. _Ginny's_ fragrance. He had smelt it before, twice, but had forgotten about it. Once, in the Chamber of Secrets, when he had fallen to his knees beside her pale body and took her in his ‑­

arms, that scent had driven out for a moment that damp musky, mouldy reek of the Chamber. The second time had been just before the Quidditch World Cup. Mrs Weasley had sent him up to fetch Ginny downstairs to help her make lunch. He had knocked at her bedroom door but received no answer, and so had pushed it open just a crack to make sure that she wasn't in there. The sight that had greeted his eyes had been almost picturesque. Ginny had been asleep on her bed under the open window, her head resting on an open book, the late summer sunshine glinting off her fiery hair which was loose around her shoulders, giving her a kind of golden halo. Harry had been awe-struck for a minute, before realising with a blush that he was going cow-eyed over his best friends little sister, and that he better snap out of it now and do what he was here to do. Stepping over to her, he allowed himself to take one moment to admire her sleeping face, so innocent looking, like an angel. Shaking himself one again from his stupor, her gently put his hand on her shoulder and shook it a little, calling her name.

She had stirred, her eyes fluttering, as she stretched her body in a very feline – catlike way, her back arching and her arms rising above her head, causing the green sundress she was wearing the rise a little, giving Harry a glimpse of pale, smooth thighs.

Harry blushed at the memory that he had tried to force himself to forget. OK, he was a guy, he knew that it was normal for him to notice pretty girls, and, as he had realised that day for the first time, Ginny was most certainly a pretty girl, but she was Ron's little sister, and consequently, off limits to him. Besides, they barely knew each other, and Harry therefore had no right to be admiring her body, even if it was very nice, gorgeous even, and she looked so beautiful when she was sleeping, or angry, like the time Harry had seen her yelling at Fred and George when they had pranked her bedroom door to turn her clothes neon pink when she walked through it. It was common knowledge in Weasley family that Ginny hated pink. In fact, Harry realised, Ginny looked pretty all the time. Harry had just never admitted it to himself before now for some reason. But all this was beside the point, he reminded himself. He wanted Ginny to be his friend, yes, he wouldn't deny that. He would love to get to know her better. Much better – He cut that thought off before it went any further. This was not the time to be thinking about these kinds of things. He had more important things to worry about! Like handing Dumbledore, Voldemort and the Dursley's a great big spoonful of their own medicine.

But he did want to read her letter.

He rolled his eyes and berated himself._ Potter, you are truly pathetic, you know that? _But he picked up the letter, split the seal, and began to read.

_Harry,_

_You are right, I was surprised to get a letter from you, as we haven't really talked much before. Partly my fault, I know, but a hefty bit of the blame goes on your shoulders too. Anyway, before I go any further with this letter, I just want to say one thing;_

**_Stop being a stupid noble prat and wake up and smell the potion!_**

_None of us are abandoning you Harry. We all love you too much. Ron, Hermione, Mom and Dad, me. I'm such even the twins love you. Although, you may have bought their love with a certain pouch of 1000 galleons, hmmmm? Anyway, that is beside the point. We Weasleys look after our own, and you are most certainly one of ours._

_I know it must be hard living with your muggle relatives all summer after what has happened, and I'm such us not sending any letters has made it worse, but we really didn't have much of a choice, much like you. Dumbledore rules Mom and Dad, and if he says that we can't write to you, then you can bloody well believe that not a single letter to you will leave this house. Me, Fred and George actually tried to ignore this ruling from on high and send you a letter anyway, but Percy caught us and turned us in. Stupid git. I got my revenge on him though. Muggle itching powder in his pj's. evil grin_

_You are right; I can understand some of what you are feeling with what happened in my first year. I know the guilt, the pain and the nightmares. I still get them now and again, even now. But I got through it, with help from my family – and you. You might not know it, but you helped me a lot after the Chamber, without even knowing it._

_Do you remember (stupid question) the train ride back to school the next year, when the Dementors got onboard? I could hear everything in my head. The basilisk's hissing, Tom laughing, the sound of petrified people falling to the floor, and you, begging me not to be dead. But then I saw you pass out in front of them. Shut up, and stop being ashamed or embarrassed, there is a point to this story, so let me finish it without your face setting the parchment on fire._

Harry flushed even more furiously. He couldn't believe he was being told off via letter for something that she had caused him to do with making him remember an incredibly humiliating experience. But he managed to push that to the back of his mind, and continued reading.

_Thank you. Anyway, as I was saying. I watched you pass out from them that first time, and what I felt right then was horror and pity, not something you want to hear, I know, but deal with it. But then I realised later, that while I had been hearing the memories of the one bad experience in my life, you must have been reliving the worst of all yours, and if that memory was bad enough to make my messy haired hero collapse, then my own experiences were pale in comparison. You may not know it, but I watched you that year, and I saw how you worked to fight off what the Dementors did to you. Believe it or not, but I actually spied on some of your Patronus lessons with Remus. That's when I learned what your worst memory was. And it helped me to realise that if you could be strong in the face of your mother's death, then I could be strong and confront Tom in my nightmares. I took a page from your book, and formed a kind of Patronus in my mind to keep him back, and eventually, I didn't need it anymore, because he was gone._

_You helped me be strong and heal then Harry, and now I want to return the favour by helping you now, by keeping your hope burning, and keeping your pain at bay. I will always be your friend Harry, and I will be here if you need me, for anything._

_Ok, I just re-read that last bit, and it came out a bit dodgy, but you know what I mean. Although, if that's what you need to make you feel better...I repeat my earlier statement. wink_

Harry flushed again, and then quickly brought his mind back to her letter, when it started to wander to what she had been insinuating For some odd reason after this part there was a long black line of ink across the parchment, before the writing began again.

_Sorry about the mess Harry. Ron is being an arse again and tried to take my letter off me to see what I was writing to you. Bloody prat had the nerve to say that I didn't have the right to, and that I was too young to be caught up in everything that is going on. I hope his face stings for at least an hour where I slapped him. You will have to help me get revenge on him Harry. After all, he was kind of insulting you too. Any ideas on how to prank him?_

_Anyway, I've just realised how much I have written, and if I keep going Pigwidgen won't be able to carry it. Mom and Dad say we will be seeing you after your birthday, so keep your chin up, and you will be back where you belong in no time._

_Love_

_Ginny. _

Harry sat still after he had finished, his mind half in turmoil, and half frozen in shock. _What the_... That was the most insightful, humiliating and plain cheerful letter he had ever gotten. And it came from little Ginny Weasley? And... was she flirting with him?! Harry's head spun. Girls simply did not flirt with him. Sure Parvati had been all giggly with him when he asked her to the Yule Ball, but that was different, that was Parvati, she giggled constantly. Other than that, no girl even looked at him, except for Hermione, but that was different. He was a skinny, knobbly-kneed, messy-haired magnet for trouble. What girl in their right mind would be interested in him? Although, to be fair, who in the Weasley, short of Mrs Weasley (possibly) was in their right mind? He shook his head, and skimmed through Ginny's letter again, to make sure he wasn't imagining things. Nope. She was defiantly flirting with him, but amongst all the teasing, ranting and...flirting, she had managed to address all his 'fears' in a direct, yet soothing and gentle way. She didn't patronize him like Dumbledore or even Hermione to an extent; she didn't coddle him like Mrs Weasley, or try to take all the blame like Sirius. In a way she reminded him a bit of Gred and Forge, he though affectionately; always trying to make people smile, but not attempting to mask reality, merely trying to provide a respite from it. Ginny did all those things but she did it in a more subtle, understated way, so people almost didn't notice that they were being distracted, and they just let themselves fall into the reality that she created around them. She was intelligent like Hermione, loyal like Ron, and had a temper to match both his own and her mother's. He shivered. Matching his temper with a Weasley temper was a very bad thought. He supposed it was the red-head genes that the Weasleys had and he had inherited from his mother. Those things were flammable.

As he stared at Ginny's letter, he suddenly realized that at the very bottom of the parchment were three tiny letters. P.T.O. Curious, Harry did as instructed and flipped over the parchment, comprehending that he had nearly missed Ginny's Post Script. Then he read it and his face paled slightly.

_P.S. Harry. Why was there blood on your letter? And don't even think about trying to lie to me. I will know if you do. I grew up with the Twins. Ginny. x_

One word ran through Harry's mind. Bugger. Then five words. Bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger.

All his planning would go to hell in a hand basket if the truth about his life with the Dursley's came out. He would be whisked away, smothered; people would insist that he get counselling and all that crap. He would never be alone, and he would never get a chance to fulfil his plans. Now as much as he wanted to leave the Dursley's and all their abuse behind, and be with his real family, staying where he was for now was a necessary evil.

Then, a bolt of lightning hit his brain, illuminating all the dark corners and bringing everything into sharp clarity for an instant, and the answer came to him.

Why should he attempt to go alone in this? He knew that he had to keep secrets from some, perhaps most, of his friends, especially the adults in his life, but if he attempted to change the course of the war on his own, then he would fail. He needed help. And who better than someone who has already felt the full evil that is Lord Voldemort, someone who has already had their lives changed, their souls touched by his darkness. Ginny Weasley fitted the bill perfectly. She was strong, powerful, intelligent, witty and fun, and better still, no one would ever guess that he would choose her to be his confidant, as, before now, they had never had much contact on a personal level.

He had chosen his partner in crime, and along with having all the necessities that he needed in a partner if they were to help him, she was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which would definitely make her relaxing to work with.

But the question now remained; would she _want_ to work with him? It was all well and good him making all these plans about including her and her helping him, but she needed to want to first, he needed to get her to believe in him, and what he was doing.

Maybe it was best if he eased her into the idea slowly, feeding her a little bit of information at a time. Enough to get her interested, but not enough for her to cause much damage if she refused. She defiantly seemed to want to help, in her words, willing to do 'anything' to help him.

Another letter was in order.

_Gin,_

_ Blink I'm not entirely sure what to make of your letter. First you yell at me, then you tell me I'm family, then you insinuate blackmail, **and** call me your hero, before making some very...interesting, insinuations about what you may want to do to help me. My head was spinning after I had finished._

_But, on the flip side, I did feel a lot better after reading it. Thank you for telling me that it was Dumbledore messing with my post, and not you guys cutting ties with me. That helped a lot. I never thought that he would stoop so low as to keep me from my friends. It's bad enough that he sent me back here after...after the tournament. Does he have to try and cut off the only source of...comfort that I have left to me? Thank you for trying to reach me anyway, even if you didn't succeed. I'm glad I wasn't Percy when you got to him. Shudder._

_You're right; it is hard being here alone after what happened. My relatives treat me worse than you or I would treat Malfoy if he was our servant. It doesn't help that I wake up the entire house every night when I wake up screaming from nightmares. Damn, that sounds pathetic doesn't it? I'm a nearly 15 year old boy, and I can't control my reactions to dreams .I feel even more pathetic after your helpful reminder of my reactions to Dementors. But I guess there was a good side to that if seeing me make a fool of myself helped you kick Tom's mental arse out of your head. Even if you **did** spy on me in order to achieve that. I will have to think of a suitable punishment for that. Oh the possibilities._

_And I do agree with you about Ron. In his letter to me ( Ron is going to kill me for telling you this) he called you a kid, and said that I was in the wrong for writing to you, and that you didn't need to get mixed up in the danger that constantly follows me around. Personally, I think that that idea is stupid. You have faced something more terrifying than most adults will ever face, and you got through it. You had the Dark Wanker's teenage self running around in your head for a year, and you tried to fight back, and almost succeeded, and would have if I hadn't have found that blasted diary. And quite frankly, Ron is being a hypocrite. He followed me into more dangerous stuff when he was way younger than you, and you aren't that young anyway, only a year behind us. So I'm planning on telling Ron to take a good look at you without his big brother glasses on, and actually think about what he sees. Because when I look at you, I don't see a little girl who can't take care of herself and who needs to be protected from the big bad world, because that is impossible now anyway. I see a beautiful, talented, powerful (I shudder when I hear the words Bat Bogey Hex and your name in the same sentence) and resourceful young lady, with all the best qualities of her family, and very few of the bad ones. The only exceptions I know of are the famous Weasley temper and your ability to make it look like your entire head is on fire when you are embarrassed._

_Anyway, back on topic, the best prank I think we could play of Ron is one which has other benefits as well, for the whole of Gryffindor tower. I will tell you, if you promise me something. Keep the secrets I tell you, and trust me, whatever other people say about me. Do we have a deal? 'Cus if we don't, then I need to rethink some...ideas._

_Write Back soon_

_Harry_

_P.S. There was blood on my letter because I was bleeding when I was writing it. Simple explanation really. Harry. _

As Ginny finished Harry's letter, she lay back on her bed, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts as she tried to digest what it had said. Two seemed to be the most prominent. The first, that Harry had actually responded to the not so subtle flirting in her last letter, and the second, that he wanted her to trust him. And attached to those thoughts, the overall impression and realization that Harry was hiding something, and that he wanted to share it with her, if she would give him her trust. _ Harry, _she thought fondly. _ Don't you realise that you have so much more than my trust?_


	4. Sneak Peak

A/N

Right, firstly I want to say thank you to all you wonderful people who are reading and reviewing my story, your comments really motivated me to try and keep going with this story. Unfortunately, as some of you may know from my profile, my fiancé recently left me for another, younger, woman, so my mind isn't truly in my writing right now, or at least, the writing I am doing is mostly either angry or heartbreaking. So, while this isn't goodbye, this story is going to be idle for a while, until I get back on my feet again. But, because I want to make you people happy, I will give you a sneak preview into the future via my magical crystal ball…

"Excuse me," said Harry politely, attracting the attention of the man behind the counter. To be quite frank though, 'man' wasn't that much of an accurate description, as the gangly youth didn't seem to be that much older than Harry himself. 18 or 19 perhaps. In all honesty, he reminded Harry a lot of Stan Shunpike, the conductor of the magical and maniacal Knight Bus. They had the same thin, pimply faces and floppy light brown hair.

As he started to speak, Harry had to suppress a grin, despite the fact that his face was completely obscured by the magic of the cloak.

"Hello, and welcome to Travelers Den Magical Trunk Shop, here to supply all of your traveling needs. My name is Stuart Shunpike, and I am the assistant manager of this establishment. How may I be of service?"

ShadowWalker616


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